A Box Full of Whouffle
by Mainli
Summary: ClaraxEleven one-shots: Filled with a jealous TARDIS, some occasional snogging, and as much fluff as a roll of pink cotton candy.
1. Names and Kisses

**Welcome to my collection of Clara/Eleven, or 'Whouffle', oneshots! **

Before we began, thanks to my lovely betas, _brainywords_, and _girlfromlaer _from tumblr!ღ

**Title: Names and Kisses**

**Rating: K+**

**Prompt from anonymous on Tumblr:** Could you please do one where Clara is about to say the Doctor's real name and he kisses her?

This one-shot takes place between Journey to the Center of the TARDIS, and The Crimson Horror. In my thoughts, Clara had forgotten the adventure through the TARDIS, but she still has some subconscious memories of it, which helped her to find the library and book once again.

**Thanks for reading! ^-^  
**

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"I know what it is," Clara says, her eyes studying him seriously.

"What what is?" the Doctor says, looking up from the TARDIS's console. He pulls a few levers with a absent expression, not really listening.

"Your name."

And then he's listening. He whirls around, staring at her. "My name?" It's not possible. How could she have found it out? The TARDIS wouldn't show her, no one else knew it...he hadn't told her. Had he? He closed his eyes, running a mental checklist of what he had said in the last few days. No. No, he hadn't.

"I read it," she continues, running her hand along the console. "In that old book on display._The History of the Time War_?"

He stares at her, and runs both his hands through his hair. How did he not remember to go lock it? Come to think of it, he should never have left it open in the first place. Now she's read it again.

Blowing out a breath, which makes his cheeks puff up, he shakes his head. "You can't say it. You shouldn't know it, Clara."

In turn, she steps closer, her eyes inquisitive. Curious. She's always curious, his Clara is. He likes it, though at the moment it's just a bit of problem. "Why do you call yourself the Doctor if you have a name?" she says, ignoring what he said.

"Because," he says, deliberately vaguely as he looks down at her. He pauses, then decides to explain. "It's a title. I like it. It's safer."

She steps a closer again, and he crosses his arm. "Is that what Time Lords do, abandon their names then?"

"In a way," he says, eying her with a nervous air. She's about to get something out of him, he can feel it, if he's not careful. "We like titles." He tries to avoid her gaze, not succeeding. "Titles are cool," he finishes.

"Sure they are, mister." She pokes him on the shoulder lightly grinning. "Or should I say-"

And then he kisses her. He doesn't completely understand why, other than she can't say his name, she just can't, it would unleash things that can't be unleashed. And so he kisses her. It's just light, and slightly confused. He doesn't completely recall how to kiss, even if his last one was rather recent.

Clara blinks in surprise, and he jumps back just as she starts to kiss back. His face feels warm-_you blushed_, he remembers-and he nervously straightens his bow-tie, even though it's not crooked. It's something to do. "Sorry," he blusters, not looking her in the eye. "You were just going to say it. And you can't. Bad stuff happens then."

She raises her eyebrow, giving him a wry look. "So you kissed me? You could have...let me see, just told me that, or even..." she pauses, widening her eyes for emphasis. "...put your hand over my mouth to stop me." She raises her other eyebrow. "Instead, you kiss me."

"I didn't think of those," the Doctor mutters, which is true. He should have though.

"'Course you didn't," Clara says. She crosses her own arms, smiling a little. "Snogbox. I told you." The TARDIS makes a little growling sound, and Clara shifts nervously. "Erh, sorry, TARDIS. But you can't deny it."

But, apparently the TARDIS believes she can, and growls again. Clara opens her eyes wide, and faces the Doctor again. "Anyways. You kissed me. And I think you liked it."

The Doctor flushes. "No, no. I mean, yes. No. I'm sorry? Yes? No?" He waves his hands around, then starts to straighten his bow-tie again. "Sorry? Or, um...sorry." He frowns, and Clara rolls her eyes. "Y-"

"Oh, shut up chin boy," Clara says fondly, and kisses him.


	2. Jealousy and Rays

Again, thanks to my lovely betas, _brainywords_, and _girlfromlaer_!

**Title: Jealousy and Rays**

**Rating: K+**

**Bonus characters/shippings: **Mentions of past Rose/Doctor.

**Prompt from anonymous on tumblr: **A whouffle fic about when the doctor gets jealous?

** Thank you for reading! ◕‿◕**

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The Doctor sniffed, rather disapprovingly. Really. Why was that man talking to her with that look on his face? And why was she smiling? And...blushing?

Oh dear. She was getting distracted. It was just silly to get distracted by those things while seeing the universe. Very silly. Quite.

He straightened his bow-tie. He had better get her away before everything got very complicated. Falling in love with an alien-or someone from another time-could do that. _Oi._ She wasn't falling in love with that man. They were just talking. They _couldn't_ be falling in love yet. After all, she had only just met him less than twenty minutes again, when she wandered over to the restaurant's ice cream counter. Them falling in love would be just silly. Very silly.

He really should go check on her though. Yes. He would go over there.

Standing up, and straightening his bow-tie again, with almost a precise, determined air about the gesture, he strode over-or to be precise, slipped, apologized to a waiter, and made some sort of strange noises when he stubbed his toe. All this while keeping an eye on Clara and Mystery Man.

It was a feat to be proud of, he decided. Not embarrassed. Oh, definitely not that.

Swallowing, he went over to Clara and mystery man, trying to get a commanding, stern look on his face when his eyes found mystery-man-who-had-now-brushed-his-hand-with-Clar a's. And she blushed.

Okay, this was bad. Very bad.

"Doctor?"

"Erh?" he said, his eyes switching from brushed-his-hand-with-Clara's and to Clara, immediately softening.

"Um..." Clara looked at him with two perfectly raised eyebrows. "You're, sort of just standing there. Haven't really said anything..."

"Ah. Well. I was thinking. Of what y_our_ name is," the Doctor said, switching his gaze back towards brushed-his-hand-with-Clara's, who smiled...a very annoying smile, the Doctor decided. How did Clara stand it?

Annoying-Smile smiled yet again, this time leveling his gaze with the Doctor's. He looked fairly human, except for the green ears and nails. "Ray."

"Ah. Well, hello Ray." The Doctor said, moving his lips as though he had smelled something unpleasant. "Ray...never liked that name. Makes me thinking of the fish. One tried to bite me last time I went scuba diving. Mind you, it was unusual scuba diving. Most people don't go in that part of the ocean. Or that far deep..."

"Doctor," Clara hissed.

"What?"

"Being rude again," she said.

The Doctor shrugged. Good. This man had an annoying smile, and he would break Clara's heart. Clara gave him one of her signature _Doctor...what now...?_ looks, and he just shrugged again, a little pout creeping to his face. More like a half pout, half scowl, really.

Ray smiled yet again. Annoying man. "And what is your name?" he said.

"The Doctor. Just the Doctor. No need for the whole 'who' thing...I don't like you well enough to be amused," the Doctor muttered. Clara furrowed up her eyes, giving him another look. He winced.

"If you don't like me, Doctor, just say the word," Ray said, still being frighteningly full of smiles.

"I-"

"Doctor," Clara said, folding her arms.

"What?" The Doctor said, trying to look affronted. "Oh. Rude again," he muttered."Well...I'll just...be over here," he said finally.

He could feel Clara's eyes on him, and when he sat down at the other end of the table, he saw her glance at him out of the corners of her eyes as she talked to Ray for the next few minutes. She stopped though, and the Doctor stared regretfully down at his tea. He had been rude-but Ray was just so annoying.

He frowned. Had he been rude to Clara by not letting her talk with this man? But Ray would just be trouble. He was just trying to help. But...he had almost seemed...possessive. Which was strange. The Doctor frowned again, then wrinkled his nose. Maybe he had been rude. Not that Ray mattered. Clara did though.

After what seemed like a endless time, Clara bounded up to him, that Clara grin on her face. "Hello, Doctor...you look pretty glum," she said, her grin fading a little.

"Just thinking, Clara Oswald," he said with a little smile. "I wouldn't advise it."

Clara blinked, her eyebrows going up a little. "Doctor?"

"Just...erh, eh...sorry. For. Um. That," he said, nodding towards where she had been sitting with Ray.

"Oh." Clara smiled a little. She then grinned, almost teasing. "Good. You should be. I was just getting to know him-he probably thought you were jealous for a moment. He got over it though." Her mouth twitched. "...you weren't, were you?"

The Doctor did his trademark flustered look, almost shooting out of his seat. "'Course not! I just...wouldn't recommend falling for a alien on another planet. Very messy."

"You don't like humans falling for you then?" Clara said, still grinning. "_Alien._"

"No! Yes! I mean, no." The Doctor shook his head. "Shut up." His face fell a little. "It ends up being messy for them though, when they do. Sometimes it works out for them though. But for me."

Clara's face softened, laying her hand on the Doctor. "Why aren't they with you?"

"She's with me. Just not me," the Doctor said. He stared at the table. "It's all very timey-wimey Clara Oswald." He jumped up suddenly, closing his hand around hers gently. "Now. Where shall we go next?

Clara brightened, though the concern didn't leave her eyes. "You said you went scuba diving with rays?"


	3. Of Burns, Bedrooms and Forehead Kisses

The first time Clara spends the night on the TARDIS, and is gifted—after much fussing to find the 'perfect' one—a bedroom.

Inspired by_ Clara and the TARDIS_ minisode.

**Word Count:** 914

**Rating:** K+

Thank you to my lovely beta, andyouremyimpossiblegirl (on tumblr)!

Thanks to everyone for reviewing/favoriting/following! It means a ton. :)

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The first time it happens, it's after they've been chased by an alien that at first glance Clara would categorize as a fireball, though it's doubtlessly more complex than that. That aside, it still burns like one, and when they finally collapse inside the TARDIS, the hem of Clara's jacket is scorched, and her hair smells like smoke.

The Doctor meanwhile, is having a 'mild' freakout. He's kneeling down next to her, trying to get her jacket off, though in his panicked—and honestly, in just his normal state—his fingers slip around it, and not much progress is being made in getting it off.

"Clara, Clara," he mutters, scanning her face. "You're hurt."

Clara shakes her head, holding up a hand. "I'm fine, Doctor. It's just my jacket. I'm not burnt," she assures him. He just leans forward in response, sticking his nose next to her hair. "Doctor," she exclaims. "What are you doing?"

"You smell funny. Smoke. Are you sure you weren't burnt?" he says, running a strand of her hair through his hand.

"Yeah, I'm sure," she says. "It's just smoke from my jacket—and yours—that got in my hair. Speaking of, you aren't burnt, are you?" she says.

"I'm a time-lord," he says, as though that completely answers her question. Which it doesn't, since she's pretty sure time-lords can get burnt too.

"I know," she says, giving a look that she hope clearly conveys that she's getting tired of hearing this excuse every time he got injured or was in danger of being so.

The Doctor squirms a little. "I'm f—"

"No, you aren't," Clara interrupts, catching sight of a small red mark on the underside of his wrist. She takes hold of his wrist, her touch gentle, turning it over. "You are burnt," she says, her tone almost accusatory.

"I'm a time-lord?" the Doctor repeats, not meeting her eyes, a sheepish look to his face.

"And I suppose time-lords don't have burn cream either," Clara says, her tone dry.

The Doctor scrunches up his face. "Maybe. Rory might have kept some somewhere."

"Rory?"

"He was a nurse." And still was, he supposed.

Clara decides not to press the subject, for now, and just sighs. "Well, I guess we'll go find some."

The Doctor smiles lopsidedly at her, then leans forward, giving her one of those forehead kisses she's come to treasure. He lingers a little longer than usual, and she closes her eyes lightly, taking it in.

By the time they find the cream—which is much more difficult, and longer,than it should be. In fact, finding anything in the TARDIS seems to be unusually difficult—and by the time Clara has showered, and washed away the smokey smell, she is absolutely exhausted. Their latest adventure involved a good deal more than running than usual, which is saying something.

So she finds her way back to the console room—after a few twists and turns. She swears the TARDIS changes the hallways daily—and tells him she's taking a nap. "Can you show me a room?" she says, leaning against the console.

The Doctor's eyes light up and he nods, turning—and stumbling, in the process-down the small row of stairs. "Yes, yes, I have the perfect room for you…no, not that one…maybe that one…" he waves his hands in the air, glancing back and forth. "Or…"

Clara falls into step next to him. "Anyone room is fine."

The Doctor shakes his head. "No, no it's not." Normally, the TARDIS would provide and design a room that she thought would fit best whoever is traveling with him at the time, but in this case, he knows he's just going to have choose one of empty rooms that have never belonged to anyone. He can't give anyone one that's been lived in—they are too special, almost a shrine for his lost companions.

Clara's cheeks quirk into a small smile, and the Doctor automatically takes her hand. It's routine now, something he doesn't stop to think about.

They walk like that for awhile, stopping every once in awhile for the Doctor to poke his head in a doorway, shaking his head and withdrawing with a disappointed look on his face, with a added muttered of "Too plain," or something else along those lines.

Now, he spins out of the current room. "It's perfect Clara! Or at least I think it's perfect. I mean, if you don't like, then it's not, but I…" he trails off, staring at her expectantly.

Clara grins, feeling a surge of affection for him. He is sincere about this, sincerely wanting to her like and wanting it to be right for her, and this makes her absurdly happy.

She pears through the doorway, stepping inside. The room has tan walls, with red accents, and small fireplace is in the corner. It's adorable, and more cozy than most of the TARDIS—not that she would say that out loud. The TARDIS would probably make her disappear mysteriously. Her eyes smile up at him. "It is perfect, Doctor," she says, giving him a hug.

He flushes, hugging her back. "I thought you'd like it."

She grins into his coat, the rough feeling of the wool rubbing into her cheek, before pulling back. Clara moves over to the bed, stretching out on it. The mattress and pillow are soft and comfortable, and she closes her eyes again. "Thank you," she says, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"You're welcome, Clara," she hears, before the sound of a door shutting echoes throughout the room.

When she wakes up, her phone greets with the announcement that she has been asleep for nine hours, spending the equivalent of a night there.

Secondly, there is a plate of jammy dodgers on the side table.


End file.
